The Gift of Instinct
by Emerald Olive
Summary: What kind of birthday gift do you give to your exboyfriend, who still really loves you, who only dumped you to keep you safe, who plans on conquering the most evil wizard in history, knowing that he may never see you again?...Oneshot. HarryGinny.


**A/N: Minor DH Spoilers. I wrote this oneshot in honor of Harry's birthday. I loved this scene in the book, and I wondered what was going through Ginny's head at the time, and if things had turned out a little differently than she had planned. Happy reading and please review!!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything you recognize. It all belongs to JKR.**

Pacing. One, two, three, turn. Back and forth. Back and forth. One, two, three, turn. Back and forth. Back and forth…

It didn't help that the sounds of laughing and happy birthday wishes were traveling up the staircase and echoing around my small room. The voices that carried were a jumble, but occasionally a phrase such as "Happy seventeenth!" would ring in my ears, mixed with the sizzle of the frying pan, the scraping of chairs against the kitchen floor, and the sounds of utensils on plates.

But I continued my doubtful pacing, from time to time glancing at the tarnished silver necklace that had been thrown unceremoniously onto my unmade bed.

What kind of birthday gift do you give to your ex-boyfriend who still really loves you, who only dumped you to keep you safe, who would be leaving for God knows how long on some quest to conquer the most evil wizard in history, knowing that he may never see you again? Something useful was the first thing that came to mind. But how could I possibly know what would be useful on this mysterious quest? I can't know, I answer myself; therefore, something useful is entirely out of the question. The next thing that came to mind was something cliché, like a set of portable Quidditch balls, or a book on Defense Against the Dark Arts, or new quill. But something like that would be painfully impractical, and would deny that there ever was a relationship between us, making it seem as if I'd forgotten. And I hadn't forgotten…

The next and last thing that came to mind was something romantic. This was the idea that was both the most tempting and the most frightening. I'd gone as far as actually finding and preparing something.

It was an old silver locket that my mother had given to me when I was younger. It had been hers when she was a little girl. As soon as I received it, I debated for days over whose picture would occupy each coveted spot, and I soon decided on placing one of my mother and one of my father, the two people who were more in love with each other than anybody else I had ever met.

Ever since that day I had never taken that locket off. Today was the first time I ever even undid the clasp.

I decided a long time ago that as soon as I fell in love, I would take out the pictures of my parents and put in a picture of myself and the boy who I was in love with and who was in love with me.

This morning I realized that the day had finally come to replace the pictures.

I carefully removed the aged photographs of my mother and father and searched my room for the picture that I wanted. I found it stuffed in a drawer next to one of my many Weasley sweaters. It was a photo of my entire family plus a few others and minus Percy, taken on Christmas Eve last year. I was sitting on the couch in the unrecognizably decorated sitting room, squished between Fred and George, laughing loudly at my entertaining brothers. Harry was sitting on the floor next to Ron, directly in front of me, smiling contentedly at his surroundings, his green eyes sparkling with cheerfulness. That was how I wanted to remember him forever and ever.

I cut out my face first and placed it in the spot where my mother's picture had been. I then proceeded to cut out Harry's face. This picture had been taken before he kissed me, but the Harry in the picture, every once in a while, when everyone else was waving at the camera, would sneak a look behind him to the place where my laughing face had been. A surge of warm affection spread throughout my body as I placed his smiling face into the locket. No matter what happened, he would always be my first love, and he deserved that spot next to me in that locket, despite anything that could happen to either of us. I would always love him. I'd never stop.

But that had been this morning, and I was beginning to second guess my wonderful idea of giving Harry my locket. I was incredibly attached to the thing. But he needed to know that no matter where he was going, I was going to be with him. And if he wouldn't let me come in person, I would be with him in spirit.

But would it be enough? Would I ever be able to give him enough?

The pacing continued.

But then it ceased.

There were three sets of footsteps climbing the stairs. Suddenly Hermione's voice carried into her bedroom. Something about underwear.

It was now or never.

I stuck my head out of the room to find Ron gaping at Hermione and Harry sniggering at the two of them.

Deep breath. You can do this. Ginevra Molly Weasley, you can do this. My eyes locked with his. Deep breath. You can do this.

"Harry, will you come in here for a moment?"

Oh no. Hermione was giving me that knowing smile of hers. I bet she thinks that I want to be 'alone' with him. Oh no, that is not what I want. Not at _all_ what I want. Although, now that I think about it, it does seem to be quite an appealing idea…No, stop this. He broke up with you. You're not going to kiss. You're just going to give him the present and be done with it. You're not going to kiss.

I moved aside to let him in. His surveying my room gave me a few more seconds to panic.

Why did I suddenly feel this way around him again? I was acting like a ten year old. I twirled my hair around my finger as he glanced out of my window at the orchard. Stop that. Deep breath.

I looked up at him.

He was looking back at me.

He was beautiful.

All I knew was that I was madly in love. I forgot acting like a ten year old. I forgot playing with my hair. I forgot who I was for a second as well, lost in his emerald gaze. Then I remembered.

"Happy seventeenth."

He mumbled something indistinct. I didn't catch it. I didn't care. I hadn't been alone with him in such a long time, and his gaze was so alluring. I forgot everything again. I was trapped in his eyes.

He said something. I missed it again. I could tell by the look on his face that he had attempted a desperate stab at normal conversation. But it didn't really matter what he had said, his voice had brought me back to the surface of reality.

What was he doing here? Oh yes, today was his birthday. What was I doing here? I wanted to give him his present, that's right. What had I gotten for him again? Oh…the locket. But at the moment, that seemed like the wrong thing to do. I decided to trust my instincts. And if that didn't work, I'd make it up as I went along.

I looked at him again. He looked uncomfortable. I probably did too. He wasn't looking at me. He was still looking out of the window.

"I couldn't think of what to get you."

I don't quite know what tempted me to tell him that. Instincts are funny that way sometimes. I think that half of me was sure that the locket was a childish, romantic gift and he wouldn't like it at all. The other half of me realized that I didn't really want to give it up, especially now that I had changed the pictures. If I never saw him again…No, don't think about that.

But I had decided to trust my instincts and they were telling me to keep that locket.

"You didn't have to get me anything."

Oh, I love him. I love him, I love him, I love him. And the bumbling, blundering, instinct trusting ten year old I've become has decided to retreat into rant mode.

"I didn't know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn't be able to take it with you…"

He looked at me. I melted. I missed him too much for tears.

"So, then I thought, I'd like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you're off doing whatever you're doing…"

Stop. Stop rambling. Stop. Stop. Stop. You're making an idiot out of yourself.

"I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest."

Oh, I love him.

"There's the silver lining I've been looking for."

At that moment I seriously considered giving the locket to him. I loved him. He loved me. We loved one another. But I looked up, and we were so close to each other. And I was locked in his eyes again. When would be the next time I would get to gaze into those eyes? And all thoughts of that locket were erased from my mind. My instincts had taken over.

And I was kissing him.

I was kissing away every feeling of indecision and timidity and apprehension and longing and hunger and love, kissing away all my fears and desires. Because the only things that mattered, that were real, that would ever matter or be real, in this whole world were Harry, and our love, and this kiss.

I heard the footsteps distantly.

But I couldn't force myself to break apart from him.

My instincts told me to make that kiss last as long as possible.

And, as I knew it would, the door banged open, Ron staring, wide-eyed at us in the doorway

But I didn't care. I knew that I had just given something wonderful, something that would never die, that would be with him always, the perfect birthday gift. And I knew that from that day on I would never again take off that locket until I passed it on to my own daughter.

Not only had my instincts preserved my locket, they'd given me, as well as Harry, the most breathtaking gift I could have ever dreamed of.


End file.
